


In Your Light

by Pochri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I deserve better, M/M, Solas deserves better, i wrote this and im very sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 04:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pochri/pseuds/Pochri
Summary: Solas visits Adaar after the events of Trespassers.
Relationships: Male Adaar/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	In Your Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unconventional pairing, I know. But my Adaar, Hissera, means a lot to me. He is my himbo and he has helped me through a lot. And I just kinda put him with Solas. Because I want himbo and egg man to be happy. But BioWare won't let me be happy. So I must do this.

It stood on the edge of the sea, always thick with mist and rain. It was a simple little cottage, near the end of the cliff, the pathway was barely worn in as if the man living inside rarely left. All that surrounded the home was a small stable and a little stairway, leading down the side of the rocks, to the beach, where a boat was tied, waiting. Of course, it wasn't used often. If not for the light coming from the windows, and the smoke that came from the chimney, it would’ve looked abandoned. 

Solas watched the cottage from a distance away, looking at all the little flowers in the windowsill, such soft colors, so contrasting to the dark wood and grey stones, bringing just a smidge of life to the scene. But nothing more. Magic hummed above him, something soft and barely there, shielding him from the heavy rainfall. Luckily it had only started, and the ground wasn't yet slick with mud. But it would be by the time he left, he mused- if the man he had come to see didn't close the door in his face. The thought made him amused, even if a little hurt. But he wouldn’t be surprised.

Long, careful strides brought him to the large door, uncharacteristically hesitating as he lifted his hand to knock. It was wrong of him to do this. _Selfish_ , even. He shouldn't have been here, and he shouldn't have knocked. But he did. He did, and each knock made his heart clench, solidifying the fact he stood here in the flesh and not just their fleeting dreams. He was sure it was a surprise as well; they chose this place to be far removed from anyone, after all. They likely didn't get many visitors, if any at all. But Solas didn't have to sit and wait long, the door carefully opening and giving way to a sudden surge of warmth from the inside of the building. There he stood, the Inquisitor. Who _used_ to be the Inquisitor. 

He somewhat towers over Solas, red curls loosely pulled into a bun, and what seemed to be some greys growing along the red locks, the soft honeyed color of his eyes half-lidded- face still kind and warm as it has always been. His face was dusted in freckles, strange on a Qunari- or, Vasoth, in this case. The man had aged gracefully, Solas couldn't deny this fact. But it was still jarring to see him, the soft blush that always overtook him, the soft laugh and warm smiles, the whispered words of love- it made him feel things. A lot of things. And each thing was painful and he wanted it, so badly. He _needed_ it. But he knew. He couldn't have it, and he would never have it. As long as he took this path, as long as he refused to heed and fix _now_. And he knew he would never heed, nor fix now. 

Hissera looked pleasantly surprised, eyes widening in shock and he took a sharp breath. His hand around the doorframe twitched as if he was considering closing the door and turning away. But it was raining, and cold. Hissera could never leave him out in weather like this, even if he was so tired and hurt. He silently pulled from the entry, wordlessly inviting them in while he returned to his stove. Solas didn’t deny himself this. He quietly filtered in, dispersing his magic while his gaze flicked to the Qunari, spotting the few grays that mingled with the dark auburn hue of their hair. Solas’ lips quirked, gaze flicking down for a moment, lingering; they had a nice ass, he wouldn’t deny that. But he tilts his head away once again and invites himself to sit at their dining table, wholly amused at how small he felt. The furniture was all design for someone of larger stature. It looked as if he had made the chairs himself, carefully carving at wood for the particular designs that decorated them. 

Solas turned to look at them once more, in time to see as they turned back, gaze conflicted as it rested on his smaller form. “Solas,” he softly said in that gentle lilt, so kind and inviting, “do you want some hot cocoa?” He asked, lips curling into a warm smile. It’s infectious. Solas felt his heart skip a few beats, chest warmed, and those fuzzy feelings he didn’t want to name made him choke on his words. But he endures. He always has.   
  
“Yes.” Solas gently replied.    
  
Hissera dipped his head, turning away to carefully open a cabinet, gently pulling out two mugs. One was fairly large, carefully painted seafoam green, decorated with silly little things. The other was surprisingly smaller, obviously made for the guests that would want to visit, painted a deep blue with little flecks of white. It was impossibly small in his hand, however- and it made Solas’ heart do funny things again. How he longed for them. He could stay, and it would be so easy. They _wouldn’t_ say no. He knew it. Gently, they fixed the drinks, hesitating for a moment, “do you still like those little marshmallows on top?” He asked as if he had forgotten the steps to their dance.    
  
Solas hesitated again, folding his hands together while he rested them on top of their table, “you know me too well.” He softly teased, fingers tightening around each other. He shouldn’t be here, each second making his heart clench and flutter with a longing he couldn’t taper. He could have them, he  _ could _ . But he turns his head from them for a moment, seeking a second to calm his heart and soothe the ache. Solas had chosen his path, and he could not waver.

The mug is gently placed in front of him, steam curling from the top. Solas gently lifted his lithe fingers to wrap around the handle, bowing his head as he curls it closer. He turned to look at Hissera, watching their taller form carefully shift around the limited space, sitting across from the elf and resting his mug down on the wood. 

It was silent. Silent for too long, Solas thought, lips pursed. It was unfair of him to sit here and not offer an explanation as to why he had come after so long, imposing on their peace. Solas looked up to them, gaze softening as he found them staring back, and still, they looked so lovingly at him. 

“Hissera,” Solas breathlessly said, reaching out to rest his hand atop theirs. 

Hissera leaned down and captured his lips, no words needed between the two. The kiss was slow, gentle, and warm. Solas sighed into it, parting his lips without prompt, tilting his head to deepen it. Hissera’s hand came to gently cradle the back of his head, pulling him closer, causing Solas to splay his hands on the table to press up. Solas felt so adrift, lost in the gentle taste of the sweets Hissera had eaten beforehand, and the warm, slick feeling of being kissed, and loved, and so sweetly held. The vasoth gently pulled back to nip his bottom lip, resting his forehead against theirs. Solas let his eyes flutter closed, both of them slowly breathing together.    
  
“I’m sorry-” Solas tried to start, but Hissera pulled him into another kiss. 

  
“Not tonight,” Hissera weakly protested as Solas opened his eyes, looking up at them through his lashes while he pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Not tonight.”   
  
Solas’ lips sadly quirked and he shifted to lace his fingers with the others, slowly relaxing. _Not tonight_.   
  
_Not tonight_.


End file.
